All Magic Comes At A Price
by VioletReese
Summary: Faith Bray turns fourteen tomorrow. She simply refuses to grow up. But, being the oldest of four girls and the only mother figure her sisters have, she has to. Unless, of course, Neverland is an option. And the fact that a specific immortal (kind of) boy lives there only sweetens the deal. But what if Neverland isn't everything she thinks it should be? Will her family even survive?
1. Not Such A Good Start To Bedtime

"Faith Allison Bray, get into your bed right now, or I swear I'll tie you to the bedposts!" Desmond, my foster father, shouts after me. I laugh as I dive into the hallway closet. The fact that he uses my full name doesn't intimidate me as it may some children.

To me, this is all a game. To him, not so much.

"Faith," he says in a steely whisper, "go to bed. Right now."

"Make me!" I shout. I stomp out of my hiding place and into the open hallway. I stand with my arms crossed, refusing to move. I hate my foster dad. Let me correct myself. I hate my foster family. They are NOT part of my family, nor will they ever be.

Make me follow orders, my butt.

"Tomorrow you'll be fourteen!" he shouts after me. "You need to start acting like it!"

"I am acting like it! Why don't you start acting your age? Shouldn't you be keeling over dead about now?"

He sighs. "Go to bed, Faith," he says.

_"Go to bed, Faith," _I spit out angrily.

"You are setting a horrible example for your sisters!" Desmond shouts.

"You're not doing much better!"

He lets out a kind of growl. A lot of kids would be scared of that. I just smirk and stick out my tongue.

"Grow up!"

"I don't want to and I'm not going to!"

"You know what? Tomorrow, you can move into the basement. _Away _from your precious little sisters."

"Have fun doing that!" He would have to drag me kicking and screaming and biting- well, causing general pain- and I would only be to the door frame.

Miranda, my foster mom, sadly and quaintly walks down the hallway to me and Desmond.

"Faith, please, just go to bed," she says quietly.

"Since you said please," I grumble. I stomp into the room I share with my three younger sisters. I really should be grateful. I'm still with them. I haven't been separated from them. We have found a family willing to take four girls ranging from five to thirteen (almost fourteen) in age.

Let me introduce you to my family. There's Pixie, who's five (yes, we know about the stupid name. Please don't say anything else on the matter), sweetest kid you'll ever meet despite all that's happened to her. Carly, six, little devil child. Last, but of course, not least, is Grace, age eight, smart. Incredibly.

"Girls, let's get ready for bed, since they have asked _so_ nicely," I command them. The girls line up, made a salute to me, and jumped into bed. They do everything I say. We look out for each other. No matter what, we make sure everyone's got what they need. We watch each others' backs.

"Happy, yet, Desmond?" I ask slyly.

"Yes. But you are still moving to the basement tomorrow. You are too old to share a room with your sisters!" Desmond cries.

"You want me out of this room? Tomorrow?" I laugh. My sisters look worried. They don't want me to leave them and I'm not going to. "You will have to drag me kicking and screaming and biting out of this room." I state my previous thought. "Do you really want to do that?"

"Watch me." He storms out of the room shouting after him. "You had better not run away! Again!"

Yes, I have run away before. Yes, I have taken my sisters with me. Yes, I have succeeded in getting away. I taken them on the run countless times. If the families aren't good, then we run. I'm considering it now.

"Good night, girls," Miranda says quietly as she leaves, shutting the door behind her.

"Tell us a story!" Carly begs. "Please?"

I smile to my sisters as they jump onto my bed.

"Let's see... which story do you want today?"

"Red Riding Hood!" Grace shouts. "Red Riding Hood!"

"No, tell us about Sleeping Beauty!" Carly calls.

"Actually, girls, I think it's Pixie's turn," I say as they sigh.

"Fine," Carly says as she crosses her arms.

Pixie's lips become a smile. "I want to hear about Peter Pan."

"Okay. Well, Peter Pan was-"

"No!" Pixie called. I knew she would catch me. "You have to start it like all good stories."

"And how's that?"

"Once upon a time!"

"Okay, okay. Once upon a time, there was a young boy by the name of Peter Pan. His parents left him as a baby. He thinks they don't want him anymore. He grew up to become a young boy before deciding this world wasn't right for him. So he went off to find the place he always dreams about- Neverland. He does find it eventually. But it takes him quite a while to do so. By this time, he's about fifteen. He learns that he can't grow up while in Neverland. So he decides to find some company. Children who don't have a family, like us. Usually, it's only boys. The girls never stay. But," I say, "if we ever do go to Neverland, we'll probably stay for forever." My sisters smile at me. "Anyway, he watched this one girl in London. Her name was Wendy Darling. He liked listening to her stories- of course, they were all about him. One day, he took her and her brothers to Neverland. They had the adventure of their lives. They fought Captain Hook, met Tinkerbell, the Lost Boys, the Indians. They loved it there. But they knew that had to come back home." Pixie looks at me with big blue eyes, Carly with her brown ones, and Grace with her green ones. "They returned home after their adventures to share them with their family. They went on and had children, grew up when Peter Pan could not- no, would not. He didn't want to grow up. He knew that once you grew up, you couldn't go back."

"Is that why you don't want to move out of our room?" Pixie asks innocently.

"What?"

"You don't want to move out because you don't want to grow up, right?" she repeats.

I think about that. "You could say that." I smile at them. "That's enough for story time."

"You didn't even finish the story!" Carly says angrily.

"Fine. Peter Pan stayed with his Lost Boys, bringing children from the other world into his own and lived happily ever after. Now, bed."

"Alright," Grace says. The girls jump into their beds and crawl under the covers. I move from bed to bed, pulling up the covers, and kissing their foreheads.

"It's hot in here!" Carly complains. I sigh and open the window.

"Sissy," Pixie whispers. "I believe."

"In what?" I ask, confused. Is she talking about me? Why would she?

"I believe in Peter Pan."

The things in the room begin to rattle. Pixie climbs out of her bed quickly and holds onto my leg. Carly and Grace come to my sides by the window.

"Faith..." Grace says worriedly. "What's happening?"

"I have no idea," I tell her honestly.

"What's that?" Carly asks. She points to the sky, where a black figure is getting closer to us.

"Okay, whatever you do, do _not_ touch anything that comes through the window."

The black thing comes closer and closer and I realize it's a person- a black person. Don't take that wrong, I didn't mean it like that. I meant- oh, never mind.

"Faith!" The wind picks up and my brown hair flies into my face. Pixie's blonde curls, Carly's red waves, and Grace's black hair does the same, and the black figure comes closer. I pull my sisters farther back and up against the door. The figure comes into the window and floats there.

"So," it says, "I hear someone here believes."

"Believes in what?"

"In Pan, of course." It offers its hand to me and my sisters. Carly reaches up to take it, but I slap her hand away. As I do, the- I'm calling it a shadow- takes my hand.

"Faith!" Pixie screams. She grabs my hand as the shadow pulls me up.

"No, Pixie, let go!"

"No!" she shouts. "I'm not leaving you!" For a five year old, she is flipping persistent.

"Pixie, you have to! You are not getting hurt!" Pixie just tightens her grip. The shadow yanks us out of the window and I can't drop her back into the room now. I pull her too me and hold her tight. Grace and Carly run to the window.

"Faith! Pixie!" they shout. Their voices bring Miranda and Desmond to the window only to see Pixie and me from afar.

"Faith, where are we going?"

"I...I don't know, sweetie," I admit for the second time tonight. This isn't a good start to bedtime.


	2. I Can't Say That's Happened Before

"Pixie, hold on!" I call over the wind.

"I see an island, Faith!" Pixie shouts.

"I see it, too." That's what scares me. Where is this shadow taking us? "Put us down!" I shout to the figure holding us.

It let out a shrill noise that sounds like some kind of laugh. "As you wish!" Its grasp on me loosens and Pixie and I are falling, falling, falling into the water. I pull Pixie to my chest quickly and twist my body so that my back is to the water. Pixie's screams are torn from her mouth as we fall.

We hit the water and my back stings with the impact. Then the cold hits and I know Pixie won't last under the water. She never learned to swim. I put my right arm under her armpits and paddle up to the surface. The extra weight makes it hard, and I'm not a very good swimmer to begin with. I look at Pixie, and she's holding her breath, but I don't think she'll last much longer. I paddle harder and faster. Finally, just as my lungs begin to burn, my head breaks the surface. I pull Pixie up above me.

"Put your arms around my neck," I tell her. I'm not entirely sure this is a good idea, but what is thirty seven pounds of five year old going to do? Apparently more than I thought. "Help!" I shout. "Help!" My head goes under, but I work to keep Pixie aloft. I break the surface again and hear Pixie shouting for help as well. "Help!"

"Do we help them?" a deep voice asks from the shore. I can barely hear it and I miss bits of the conversation as I go under again into the freezing cold.

"I got this one," another voice says. "Alfie, you're with me."

I hear a few splashes and begin to swim towards the sound. "Help!" Pixie cries again. Her weight and the growing numbness of my body drive me down. I subconsciously begin to count how many seconds I'm under. _21, 22, 23..._

I push Pixie up by her feet to keep her above the water, pushing myself farther down in the process. _35, 36, 37, 37..._

My lungs begin to burn. Usually, above water, the longest I can hold my breath is forty five seconds. I'm just about out of time. I sink deeper and deeper, unable to move, and shaking. Pixie doesn't have a chance if she doesn't have help. I hear her muffled cries for help.

Strong hands wrap around my waist and pull me upward. I can't see my rescuer, I just hope they got to Pixie. Finally, we break through the surface and I take in big gulps of oxygen and cough up water. Pixie is in the hands of a boy who's not much older than me.

I still can't see the person holding me because he's dragging me facing the other way. He is obviously a he by the looks of his hands and, you know, the strength part kind of leads me to assume such things.

After about a minute of swimming, my feet begin to drag on the sand below and my rescuer releases me. I cough up more water and Pixie crawls over to me and shivers against me. I force myself to sit up and pull Pixie to me. I take time to take in the scenery.

"Beautiful island you've got here," I say. "How much you selling for?"

"What?" the deep voice I heard earlier says. It belongs to a tall boy with long blonde hair.

"Forget it."

"So, who are you?" a British accented voice asks. I turn to find my rescuer- and boy, is he _fine, _if you know what I mean. I can't tell a definite age, but he can't be older than sixteen.

"Uh, I'm, um, I'm Faith," I stutter. The boys let out little chuckles. I straighten my back and stand up on shaky legs. "Faith Bray." My confidence builds back as I pull Pixie to her feet. "This is my little sister Pixie, please don't laugh at the name, we've heard it all. A, uh, shadow, if you will, brought us to your island. And I need help getting back home. Since you went to the trouble of rescuing me, I owe you one. No, I owe you two."

Pixie scoots closer to me and takes my hand sheepishly. "Hi," she mumbles.

The boy who saved me looks us up and down.

"I don't think they're the ones we're looking for," the blonde says.

"No, I hadn't figured that out!" the British boy says. "You'd think a shadow would be able to tell male from female!"

"So what do we do with them?"

"Put them with the others." He waves his hand at us as he walks away and sits on a rock, thinking.

The boys grab my arms and Pixie and begin to drag us away.

I kick one in the stomach. "Let us go!" I shout. "Hey! Britain!" I call. He turns his head but not far. "Don't do this!" He turns away again. "Please! Let us go! We need to get home! I've got two more sisters to get home to! Please!" They drag us farther away, and Pixie starts to cry. Britain barely even glances our way. "Please! Don't you have a family? Please, I have to get back to mine!" I throw my elbows and break away from the boy holding me for a moment. I sprint to the British boy. "Please," I plead as I fall down on my knees. "I'm begging you. Haven't you ever loved someone?" His boys grab my arms again and drag me some more.

"Wait," my rescuer turned curse says as he raises his hand. His boys stop in an instant. "Loved someone?" He thinks about it for a moment. "Yes, yes I have."

"Then please, help me take care of the ones I love." His green eyes meet mine, if only for a second.

"Pan, what do you want us to do?" the blonde says. Pan? As in... No way. My imagination is getting away from me.

Pan thinks for a moment.

"Let them stay," he concludes. "I kind of like her." He smirks at my surprise. "Faith, did you say?"

"Yeah," I mutter.

"Let's get back to camp, boys!" Pan calls. "Oh, have I introduced myself?" he asks as he offers me his hand. "I'm Peter. Peter Pan." I take it, and he helps me stand.

Pixie's face glows with joy. "Peter Pan?" she cries. "You're my favorite story character!" She dances in a circle. "You're the best one there is!"

"Very flattering," Peter says with a chuckle.

"Calm down, Pixie," I tell her. She skips over to me.

"Pixie. I like it," Peter tells me. He and his boys lead me and Pixie away.

"So are these your Lost Boys?" I ask jokingly.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Just the stories I tell my sisters. I didn't think they were real, yet, here you are."

He laughs. "Oh, yes. That. Well, all the others are here as well, so don't freak out too much."

"You mean, on this island?"

"No, no." He laughs again, an almost evil sound, but I like it. "They're real, but they won't be in Neverland for a few more days."

"Neverland?" I ask as he leads me through the trees. "Oh, never mind. I should have known." A new idea comes to my mind. "Wait. On Neverland, you never get older, right?"

"Yes. Why?"

Now it's my turn to laugh. "I don't want to get older! If I stay here, than I won't have to!"

"What about those sisters of yours?" he asks with a smile.

I think about that. My duty wipes the thought of staying out of my mind. "Never mind about that idea."

Before he can say anything else, we break through to a clearing in the jungle. An encampment fills it up. I see even more boys.

My sopping wet clothes make me even colder, and I know that Pixie must be freezing cold, even though you wouldn't be able to see that by looking at her. She was happy looking around at everything in awe.

"She seems sweet," Peter whispers in my ear. A tingle goes down my spine.

"She is. You should meet Carly. She's a devil."

"We'd get along, then," he laughs. "Boys!" he calls to the people in the clearing. "Looks like we've got some new additions, so to speak."

"They're- they're girls!" one of them says.

"Is that a problem to you?" Peter asks. "Anyone who's got something against this, say so now!"

No one speaks up. "Welcome them like you would any other Lost Boy! We're helping them get home." He gave a sly smile to his colleagues. "Now, we've got a big time ahead of us! Our agents will be here soon and we need to be ready when the Truest Believer comes!"

The boys cheer.

"Move out!" Peter shouts. "Stay here for a moment," he says to me. "Alfie!" The boy who saved Pixie comes over quickly. "Get them some dry clothes and blankets." He whispers something into Alfie's ear. Alfie nods.

Peter takes my hand and kisses it. "I'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable by the fire." He walks off, leaving me in a daze.

* * *

"Felix!" Peter calls. He hurried to meet his command.

"What are we going to do with them?" Felix asks as he waves his hand toward the two newest additions.

"They may still be of some use to us. We could use them to distract Emma and the Charmings."

"Perhaps. We could just get rid of them and use the original plan," Felix suggests.

"We could. Put these girls owe us. We saved their lives. Might as well get some use out of them."

He and Felix exchanged sly glances. "Let's do this."

* * *

Peter offers his hand again. "Come here, I want to show you something." He pulls me up and off my feet. My legs are still not quite stable, even though I feel much warmer having changed into some fairy tale looking clothes. I'm wearing a brown dress with a purple cover over the bottom. Pixie is in something similar. Hers is just smaller and is yellow with a blue covering.

"I'm sorry about the peasants' clothes," Peter apologizes, "but, as you can see, we don't look much better." He points to his own clothing and I laugh. "But I knew you'd look nice in it." He gives me a wink while I try to collect my bearings.

"Uh, do you perhaps have a hairbrush or a comb I could use? Pixie's hair is in knots. Not to mention my own." I chuckle a bit.

"Of course. Oliver, see if you could find her a hairbrush."

"Yes, sir." Oliver went out on his hunt. It didn't take him long to find one. He was back in a few minutes. "Here you are, miss." He gave me a smile and went on his way.

"Thank you. Pixie!" I sit her down on my lap and begin to brush out her curls. It doesn't take very long. I put her hair into a quick braid and she runs off after one of the Lost Boys.

I begin to work on my own hair as Peter watches me with a curious expression.

"I want to show you something," he says as I put my hair into a pony tail. He offers his hand again, and I take it. I take one last look at Pixie before I follow him towards a tree. He begins to climb up a ladder and into a tree house. I follow him.

The Lost Boys look at me with surprise. "He never lets anyone up there," one of the whispers.

Well, I can't say that's happened before.


	3. I Knew You'd Say That

Britain (I know his name is Peter, but I like Britain better) looks down at me as he helps me into the tree house. I take in the view. There are books stacked against one wall, a big window on the other side, and animal skins cover the walls. A bed is in one corner with a wardrobe beside it.

"What do you think of the view?" he asks with a smirk as he pulls back the curtain over the window. I gasp as I look out.

"This is... this is beautiful," I say as I let out a breath. "You can see the whole island from here!" I lean against the window frame and glance over my shoulder at Pan. "So, why did you bring me up here?"

"Thought you might like the view." We stand in silence as I take in every detail I can of the outside.

"How old are you, anyhow?" he asks me.

"Thirteen. I'll be fourteen tomorrow. You?"

He laughs. "Well, I've been on Neverland for quite a while. It's a bit complicated."

"I understand. I think." I watch Pixie as she runs around with the younger Lost Boys. I hear her adorable laugh from up here and can't believe we were almost dead not even half an hour ago.

"She's quite a lovely young girl," Peter says as he comes to stand by me at the window. "How old is she?"

"Five. She's the youngest of my sisters." We stand in an awkward silence as I watch Pixie laugh, jump, twirl, and act like a normal kindergartener.

Britain's hand finds mine. I jerk away and he smiles. "What, never held a boy's hand before?"

"Uh..." I actually haven't. But I don't want to tell _him_ that. "Well..."

"You haven't?" He snickers at me again.

"Don't laugh at me!" I swat his hand away as he tries to take mine again. Again, he laughs at me.

I turn my back to him and cross my arms, trying to conceal my smile. "Oh, don't ignore me!" he says playfully. I take a few steps toward the books and begin to look through them.

He grabs my waist and pulls me to him from behind. "You know, love, ignoring me comes at a horrible price."

"Of course, it does." He turns me around to face him. I stare at my shoes and can feel my face turning red. Act smooth. Smooth is good. "Uh, um, hi," I mutter. Oh, yeah, _that _was smooth.

"I thought we established that already." He gives me that smirk.

"Okay, maybe we did. Just wanted to make sure." He smirks again and lifts my chin up with his finger.

"I want you to do something for me," he says quietly.

"What?"

He looks into my eyes. "I need you to... test someone for me."

"What do you mean?"

"Call it your owe for us saving your little sister and yourself. Of course, I wouldn't ask you to do something that would put you or your sister in danger. I need you to take this, and give it to a boy they call Henry in two days' time. He'll be here, on the island. Here's the story you are to tell him."

Peter hands me a little bottle of what looks like sparkly dust.

"Sparkly dust. That's definitely the key!" He gives me a glare. "I'm sorry, go on."

I listen intently as he explains the details to his plan. "Uh, may I ask why?"

"Excuse me, love?"

"Why? Why am I tricking a little boy into thinking I'm a captive, your captive to be specific?"

He smiles at me again. "It's all part of my plan to save magic."

"Magic? Oh, right. Neverland, magic. Makes sense."

"So, Faith. Are you going to help me?"

"Sure. I'll help. Even though I have no idea why. Sure." Britain gives me that winner smirk and takes my hands into his own.

"I knew you'd say that."


	4. How Could I Say No?

In two days' time, I'm to trick Henry into thinking that I'm Britain's captive. In two days' time, Peter's plan goes into action. In two days' time, Pixie and I go back to Grace and Carly. I'm not sure I want to go back. Not really.

"Faith!" Pixie's voice comes through to my consciousness. "Look at this!"

She holds up a bug she found. She loves animals, bugs in particular. She and I both love exploration, but Grace and Carly would much rather stay inside and watch TV or read in Grace's case.

"That's beautiful," I tell her as I look at the bottle Britain gave me. Pixie dust. Huh. It is actually real. And it has Pixie's name in it. That's a side thought.

Do I really want to do that? The whole testing Henry thing. Well, I don't really have a choice. I owe Britain. He saved my life and my sister's.

The Lost Boys dance around the fire as the sun begins to set. I'm tired, and I know Pixie is, too, although she'll never admit it. Britain climbs back down the ladder of his tree house and his boys fight each other with sticks. They're more like spears, but still.

I shift on the rock I'm sitting on and watch Pixie dance with the Lost Boys. I smile as she twirls and waves at me.

There are tents set around the campfire and many of the boys are beginning to retire to them.

"Uh, Peter?" I ask as I stand up. He turns his head and walks over to me.

"What can I do for you, Faith?" he says with that smirk.

"Where can my sister and I sleep for the night? She won't say so, but I'm fairly certain she's extremely tired."

"And you aren't?"

"Maybe." I smile at him.

"Well, you can sleep out here in the open with some bedding, or you two can sleep in one of the tents with the boys. What do you say?"

"Out in the open." I don't care who they are, Pixie isn't sleeping in a tent with a bunch of boys.

"Oh, don't be so quick to judge my boys! They wouldn't hurt you."

"Well, I got that. It would be... weird."

"Come on," Pan says. "You're acting like a... like a grown up!"

"I am not a grown up!" I cross my arms angrily.

"Then stop acting like it!" He lightly hits me in the back of the head and jumps in front of me as I turn around to smack him back.

"Stop it!" I call as he tickles my sides before jumping again. I hate it when people tickle me because it's so hard to breath. Don't judge me.

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy!"

"Hey!" I smack his shoulder lightly and dart away laughing. He reappears right in front of me and I turn around again. Britain wraps his arms around me from behind while he laughs.

"Using magic to teleport isn't fair!" I protest, but his arms just wrap tighter around me.

"Oh, who ever said that wasn't allowed? I'm not breaking the rules!"

"So? It's not a game!"

"Everything is a game," he says. "So let's play." I have the strong urge to ask "Play what?" but decide against it as he twirls me around, pulling me off the ground and I shriek instead. The Lost Boys shout and dance around us. Pan laughs as we spin.

"Put me down!" I beg jokingly. Pixie laughs at me and spins away in the next instant.

"If the lady insists," Britain says as he places me back on the ground.

One of the Lost Boys doesn't join the rest in their dance. It was the one who asked Pan whether they should save me and Pixie. You'd think that would be a no brainer, but maybe not.

"Felix!" Britain shouts, noticing the same boy I do. "Come on, participate in the fun!"

Felix rolls his eyes and goes back to sharpening his spear. Yeah, because _that's _fun.

Pan pulls a pipe thing out of his pocket. "Let me play you a song," he says as he takes a seat on a boulder. I sit on one across from it. He begins to blow into the pipes and it's a beautiful melody. Pixie comes and sits by me to listen. She gets a confused look on her face.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"I'm playing a song," Pan says as he blows into the pipe again. I hear a low note.

"It's not making any noise!" she insists.

"Honey, I think we need to get your ears checked," I tell her. "It's making music."

"Interesting," Peter says.

"What's interesting?" I ask.

"Well, only boys who feel like they're lost can hear it," he explains. "How you hear it, I'm not sure. It doesn't surprise me that she can't hear it. The fact that you can is... interesting."

He stands with a concerned look on his face and walks over to Felix.

"What just happened?" Pixie asks.

"I'm not sure. But I do know that you need to get ready for bed." I pick her up and turn her upside down, holding up her dress.

"Hey!" she screams. "Put me down!"

"As you wish." I lay her down on a cot one of the boys brought out. I pull the blanket up to cover her little body. "Good night, Pixie."

"Good night, Faith." She pulls her little arm up under her little head. I kiss her forehead. "I miss Grace and Carly," she whispers.

"I know, sweetie. We'll see them soon enough."

* * *

"Why are you being so... welcoming to them?" Felix asks Pan as he comes over to him.

"Well, having girls on the island is a nice change," Pan says as he crosses his arms and leans against a tree. He watches Faith as she puts her little sister to sleep. "Besides, they'll be gone soon enough. They won't do any permanent damage. And," he adds, "she can hear the music."

"She can? That's beside the point. I only think we should stay focused on the mission, not the personnel," Felix says.

"Keep to yourself," Pan says as he walks back over to Faith. Convincing Pan that these girls were bad news would be harder than Felix expected.

* * *

"So," Britain says as he sits next to me on a boulder, "is the little angel asleep?"

"No," Pixie says groggily, "but I almost was."

"I'm sorry, love." Pan looks at me with that smirk. "Would you like to stay with me in my tree house?"

"I'm flattered," I say, "but Pixie's all comfortable-"

Before I can say anything more, Pixie jumps up and shouts, "No, I'm not!"

"Apparently she's not," Britain corrects me. "What do you say?"

"Well, how could I say no?"


	5. Again

I wake up abruptly. Uh, where am I? This is not my room at the Bowlings' house. Oh, wait, I'm in Neverland. Freaking Neverland. Yeah, because that's _real_ now. Totally. I'm still not sure I didn't hit my head on something. Because no guy as hot as Britain would like me. _If _he likes me. That is still debatable.

I sit up and rub my head. Ugh. I don't want to get up. I would love to go back to sleep like any other teenager would. I notice Peter sitting on his bed, watching me as I swing my legs over the edge of the cot I'm sleeping on.

"Good morning," he whispers to avoid waking Pixie, who is sleeping soundly at my side.

"Morning." I rub my eyes and pull my dress down so that my, you know, under things don't show. _That_ would be awkward.

"You slept well." He stated instead of asking.

"And how would you know that?" I ask.

"Well, I don't sleep. Not usually. So, I stayed up, thought about, you know, stuff, watched you and Pixie sleep-"

"You watched us sleep?" I gave him the eyebrow.

"Yes."

"At least your honest."

"Some days." I glare at him. "Kidding. Kidding!" he says in his adorable British accent. Peter chuckles while I jump up and smack him (I can't do much damage to anyone). I hop away giggling.

He catches my waist and pulls me back to him, both of us laughing. We both fall silent as my body settles against his chest.

"Uh, hi," I say quietly.

"We confirmed that yesterday, remember?" His lips slowly find mine and I turn to face him. We move in sync so that his back is against the wall.

"Sissy? What are you doing?" Pixie asks as she gets up and rubs her eyes. I quickly push myself away from Pan and turn so that I'm leaning against the wall beside him.

"Morning, Pixie," I say as I hurriedly tuck my hair behind my ear.

"Were you just- just _kissing _him?" she asks with a disgusted look on her face.

"What? No! No way! Boys are gross!" I pick her up off the cot and spin her around. "Go down there and see what's going on. I'm going to... clean up our cots."

She gives me one more disapproving look before disappearing down the ladder.

"You won't even admit to it?" Britain says.

"She's _five. _She doesn't need that kind of motivation."

He smiles and pulls my body against his. "Now, where were we?"

"About to head downstairs," I say as I practically jump from the tree house to the ground. Well, I used at least one rung. I'm not that brave.

Did he really just kiss me? And then ask for more? Or am I imagining things? I'm probably just dreaming. Peter Pan doesn't exist. Neverland is fake.

But I don't normally have vivid dreams. A lot of people will talk about dreams in detail, while all I get from mine are things like "I was at school and Britt was there", or "I think someone died." That's about all the information I get out of my dreams. So this is probably not a dream, or I'm under a whole bunch of drugs.

Let's hope it's the drugs.

That sounds bad. Oh, well.

"Faith's got a boyfriend! Faith's got a boyfriend!" Pixie sings as she dances in a circle with the one Lost Boy that's even close to her age. And I think he's eight.

"Oh, be quiet." I smack her on the head.

"Hey!" she shouts. "Not nice!"

"Good thing I wasn't going for nice." I smirk and keep walking.

"M'lady," one of the boys says to me as I walk past.

"Sir," I say as I curtsy. What? You don't get to curtsy much these days! Besides, I like the word curtsy. It sounds weird. Curtsy, curtsy, curtsy. Try saying that five times fast.

Britain climbs down the ladder next.

"Fall in, boys!" he calls. "Let's have some fun!"

The boys surround him in a rowdy circle (it's more like an oval, but that's beside the point).

"I have a game we can play!"

The Lost Boys cheer.

"Let's have a treasure hunt! I've hidden my personal dagger among other things somewhere on the island! Whoever finds it first, wins!" He gave a type of glare that really isn't classified as a glare, but I don't know what else to call it. "Let's play!"

The boys scatter, with Pixie in tow. She whoops and cheers with the rest of them as they begin their quest. I begin after them, but am pulled back by my own thoughts.

"Peter?" I say. He turns his head to look at me. He seems to have been thinking, and looks a little irritated. "Do you want me to-"

"No. I was wondering, actually, if you'd like a sword fighting lesson."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, most kids want to learn how to fight, right? Might as well teach you."

"O-okay," I agree.

He picks up one of the sticks laying on the ground.

"Wonderful swords."

"Imagine it as a sword," he tells me. "Believe it is." He stares at the stick for a moment, and it shimmers. In the next instant, it is a sword.

"That's cool." I do the same, and I also have a glittering sword. To be honest, it kind of looks like Riptide, but that's a story for a different time.

Peter raises his sword and slashes. I precariously raise mine to deflect, and the impact vibrates up my arm.

"That'll take some getting used to," I say under my breath.

He continues on strong. It's all I can do to keep my neck from getting slit open. Soon, my sword is on the ground and he has me pinned up against a tree with the cool blade on my neck.

"First time's always the hardest," he says. He pulls away and picks up my sword. I take it. Once again, he's coming on strong.

I begin to become more confident after a few rounds and being pinned against the same tree for the fifth time with my sword on the ground.

This time when he hands me the sword, I strike first before he's really ready for me to have gone, which gives me a slight advantage. Not much, but just enough. I hack and slash, only hitting his sword. I try to spin like I saw in a movie once (don't judge me, I bet you've tried it before with a stick). It gives me a bit more momentum, but throws me off balance enough for him to knock me off my feet and onto my butt.

"You're getting the hang of it," he says optimistically as he helps me up. I give him a sly smile before using the flat of my blade to knock his feet from under him. He slips and falls.

"You, too." I help him up, raising my blade in defense in case he tries something.

"You're not playing by the rules," he says jokingly. "Cheater's never win."

He slashes and hacks away again, and once again, I've got my back to the tree, and my sword's on the ground.

"I think that's enough sword practice," I say, out of breath.

"I have some work to do, anyway." He smoothly replaces his sword to the bench where he found it and begins his ascent up the ladder before turning to look at me. "You could help me, if you'd like. I could use the extra hands."

I smile. "Sure," I agree. And again, I'm making my way up that ladder. Well, that might look bad to some people. Oh well. Again.


	6. Curiosity Isn't Always a Good Thing

Britain throws me one of the blankets off the floor. "Fold and put that and the rest of them into that chest over there," he says as he picks up an ancient bound book from the floor.

"I wasn't aware helping meant spring cleaning," I say as I put the blanket away. He doesn't seem to hear me as he opensthe book and begins flipping through the pages. I quickly pull the other blankets up, fold, and place them in the chest. Peter doesn't notice that I'm done with my mission as he flops down on his bed.

"So if you don't sleep much, then why do you need a bed?" I ask out of curiosity. He ignores me, completely absorbed in whatever he's reading. I sit next to him and look over his shoulder. He quickly slams it closed. I only glance the words "I think Dad hates me," before it shuts.

"What do you think you're doing?" Pan asks me as he stands with his fists clenched.

"What? I was curious. I only wanted to know what you were looking at."

"This book is none of your business!" he shouts. He angrily stomps over to the wall and carefully places the book in a special place on the book shelf.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't know," I say quietly.

"You still didn't have to-" He stops himself and unclenches his fists. He smiles creepily. "Never mind. I'm sorry I overreacted. You were only being curious."

By the way he says it, I don't think curiosity is a good thing.

"O...kay," I mutter under my breath. "I really didn't mean to... to look at something I wasn't supposed to. I didn't see anything, only a few random words." He turns his back to me, looking as if he's been betrayed. "Peter..." I almost reach out and take his hand. But I stop myself. Stupid. There was actually a guy who liked me and I just ruined it!

Curiosity isn't always a good thing.

"I'm sorry," I say one last time as I jump down the ladder and begin to run. I run and run and run until I can't feel my feet anymore. I fall on my knees by a huge tree and start to cry. Like a baby. I'm totally being smooth.

I don't want to be on Neverland anymore. I want to go home.

Not the Bowling's home. No, the home I had back when I had a family. A real one. A whole one.

Three years ago, my mother and father died. Carly barely got out alive. I remember it so vividly, and it comes back in my dreams to haunt me far too often. I was only eleven. Pixie was two, Carly was three, and Grace was five. One night, a fire started from the stove and no one could stop it. My mother took Pixie and Grace outside before anything bad happened. My father came back for me and for Carly. He found me and took me out. Him and my mom went back in for Carly together. My mother perished inside as she got trapped and burned alive. My dad brought Carly out, who's little body was covered in burns before trying to save my mom. I never saw them again.

I was mad at my parents. They wouldn't let me go to the movies with my friends. It was so stupid for me to be mad at them. I never even got a chance to make up with them. I never said sorry.

I guess I've never really accepted the fact that they were gone. I kind of think of it as they've only gone away for a while. They'll come back for me. They always come back for me.

If only whatever magic is here could bring back the dead.

I have to get back to Grace and Carly. Getting to them is now top priority. And if Pan won't help me with that now that I've gotten on his bad side, then I'll have to find a way to get there on my own.

I furiously wipe the tears from my face and get up off my knees. I can do this. I can get back to them.

And I don't need any stupid boy's help.

I confidently walk back into the camp. "Pixie!" I call. "Pixie!" I see Peter watch me from his tree house, but ignore (at least try to ignore) his stares. I need to find my sister. "Pixie!" I shout again.

Her little head pops up from one of the bushes. "What?" she asks, obviously irritated.

"Do you have- Never mind, we didn't bring anything important. Come on. We're going home."

"How?" She takes my hand as we walk out of the camp.

"I have an idea, but I'm not sure it will work."

"What's your idea?"

"We could build a raft and swim off. Or-" I remember the pixie dust Peter gave me to distract Henry. "Wait, we can't leave yet! I owe Pan our lives. I have to do that stupid job for him!" I smack myself in the forehead. How could I have forgotten that? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"You're right," I hear to my left. I quickly spin, pushing Pixie behind me, to find Pan leaning against a tree. "You do owe me."

I can't leave. Not if I owe Peter. Maybe we can wait it out for a day more.

Before I can think on it any further, the wind picks up and my dress flies around me. Thick sheets of rain began to fall and it stings my skin. Lightening cracks in the sky above. "What's going on?" I ask Peter over the howls of the wind.

"Do you trust me?" he shouts to me.

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" He offers his hand to me.

I look at Pixie. Do I really trust him? No. Do I need to save my sister? Yes.

Instead of taking his hand, I pick up Pixie and toss her his way, shouting "Catch!" Which he does and he runs. I follow close behind.

"What's going on?"

"Bad storm! Boys! Fall in!" Many boys emerge immediately and I can hear more coming through the woods. Britain passes Pixie to another boy and offers me his hand again. This time I take it.

"To the bunker!" Felix calls. The boys shift to the right as we run. I'm already tired from running before. My calves are on fire. Wow, I am out of shape. Pan seems to notice as he falls back a bit to run evenly with me.

"Come on, Faith," he says. "Don't stop. We can't stop." I can't breath. My lungs are burning and my throat is closing up. I hate asthma. Did I not mention that before? I have to stop.

I can't run anymore. I fall to my knees in the mud. "Come on," Pan says as he leans next to me.

"G-go," I choke out.

"Not happening," he says. Not even ten minutes ago he was ready to through me to the dogs and now he won't leave me? Confusing.

He picks me up bridal style and starts to run again. I wheeze and try to get my breath back, but can't.

"Her medicine is at camp! In her pajama pocket!" Pixie shouts to Pan. "You've got to get her back to camp before the storm gets worse!" For a five year old, she's observant.

Peter changes his course and begins the trek back to camp. "Stay with me, Faith," he whispers. "You only have to make it back to camp."

I'm not sure I'll make it that far.


	7. Before This Monster Kills Us

Pan sets me down quickly on a cot in the camp. He runs over to where my pajamas are sitting in a wad. He pulls out my inhaler and looks at it with a confused expression. "What the heck is this?" he mutters.

I try to focus on breathing, but it's kind of hard. Peter gives me the inhaler which I take a few puffs out of. My throat opens back up quickly. I cough a bit, getting back my breath.

"Are you... okay?" he asks.

"I think so. I can breath, if that's what your asking."

I realize that him and I both are covered in water, and the storm is only getting worse.

"Maybe we should get to that bunker," I suggest.

"Whatever you say," Pan says with a smile. He helps me stand again, ignoring the fact that he's drenched.

We begin the trek to the bunker. He wants to move faster, I can tell, but I don't think I can go any faster than a speed walk.

"Come on, Faith." He doesn't say it like he had before. This time instead of concern, I hear anger. "Can't you move any faster?"

"Can't you decide whether you like me or hate me? It's getting confusing," I say angrily.

He stops in his tracks and turns to glare at me. _Uh-oh._

"Look here, lassie. You're only alive because I was so merciful to keep you that way. So either behave or get out of my way." He steps closer and stares me down. He's about two inches taller than me, and that only makes his freakish glare worse.

"That's all? Or was it so you could just use me to get to that Henry kid?"

"Why I'm having you do that is none of your concern. All you need to know is that you owe me your life and your sister's, and this is a way to get out of my debt." Water drips off his hair and hits me in the forehead. Just emphasizing the height thing, right? I know I'm short, the rain doesn't have to mock me.

I angrily trudge past him, not sure what to say but knowing that I don't want to be in that position anymore.

"What do you think you're doing? We are not done with this conversation!" he says, grabbing my arm and turning me back around to look at him. His grip is_ tight. _

"You're acting like my foster father!" I shout angrily. "As if you have control over me! Listen to me, Pan. I may owe you, but you have no right to speak to me like that, or anyone else for that matter!" I attempt to wrench my arm out of this grasp, but fail since his hand only tightens around my forearm.

"What makes you think you can talk to me like that and get away with it?" he asks, obviously enraged.

"The fact that you are stronger than me physically doesn't scare me!" I lie. "Let go!"

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" I struggle against the clutch he has on my arm. Water flings all around and the storm only gets worse.

"I mean, no. Quit fighting or you and your sister will never get home."

"I haven't even known you for a full day and you're already threatening to end me and my sister! Thanks for the reassurance of your good character!"

"No, I mean that. The fact that you're fighting will be what keeps you from going home."

"How, exactly?" I try to free my arm again, to no avail. His grip tightens to a point of it hurting. "The fact that you're holding me down doesn't help the whole not fighting thing." I kick his knee out from under him, but he still doesn't let go and almost pulls me down to the ground.

"Wow, you're strong," he says as he regains his footing.

"Come on, can't you just let go? I can't run away; my sister's with your Lost Boys. I'm not stupid."

He thinks about that for a moment, but does eventually let go. The moment he frees it, I rip my arm away and stomp off. There's a bruise on my arm in the shape of Pan's hand. It stings, and it only makes me want to get home more. The fact that Britain's cheery attitude is disappearing more by the minute fuels my anger. Pixie and I have got to get home to my sisters before this monster kills us.


	8. I Kind of Doubt

"Hurry inside before the storm gets any worse," Peter mutters as he opens the door to the bunker. He attempts to help me inside but I put my hands up and he obviously knows better than to bother me anymore. He seems to almost... regret yelling at me. But that could be my imagination. It probably is.

I get down the steps to find the Lost Boys and Pixie waiting for us. Peter and I are the only ones who are drenched.

The bunker is huge. There is enough space for the Lost Boys to have sword fights (okay, more like spear fights, but same difference.)

"Faith!" Pixie calls as she runs over to me and her little arms wrap around my legs because she's too short to reach my waist. I pick her up and set her on my lap after I sit down on an overturned bucket. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I mumble. We sit and watch the Lost Boys mess around. Her arms find their way around my neck and her eyes begin to close slowly. Before I know it she's asleep.

"We just woke up," I say to myself. I shake my head and lay her down on a cot in the corner. I sit next to her and continue to watch the boys play and take swings at one another. It's peaceful down here. As long as I don't focus on Britain over there watching me.

"Let's eat!" Pan calls. The boys happily run into the next room over.

"Pixie." I shake her awake. "Time to eat."

She jumps up and runs immediately after the one boy who is close to her age.

"Come on, Faith!" she calls over her shoulder. I smile and follow her.

In the next room, there is a huge table set up and piled on top is junk food. Pizza, sandwiches, Doritos, Lays, Dr. Pepper, and things of the like.

The boys start stuffing their faces-well, all but Pan- and Pixie joins in readily. I grab some cheese pizza and a Pepsi. Pixie smiles happily as she eats.

I see Peter walking walking over to me and Pixie. I attempt to ignore him, but I'm really listening to his every step.

"Would you perhaps like a dry set of clothes?" he asks quietly.

"I'm fine," I say almost angrily without looking at him. "Thank you," I add as an afterthought.

If there's one thing I'm good at, it's holding a grudge.

He sighs and I can see him rub the back of his neck out of the corner of my eye. "Faith, you need to get some dry clothes. You don't want to get sick."

"Now who's acting like an adult?" I ask bitterly.

"What?"

"Concerned about me getting sick. That doesn't sound very Peter Pan like." I stand up slowly and brush past him into the next room. I'm kind of surprised he didn't turn me around or hurt me again.

I also don't want to be in there with all the happy Lost Boys when I feel so angry.

Pan follows me out. "Come on, Faith!" he says. He sounds almost desperate. Again, probably my imagination.

"Don't talk to me," I say. I rub the bruise on my arm. The fact that I ever liked him makes me feel stupid. I walk around in a circle and think.

He angrily stomps over to one of the cots and rubs his forehead. He's very, very, _very _angry.

I realize something. Pan likes to be in control. He hurt me because I made him loose that control. He likes to be in control...

So, what if I act like he's in control, then he'll let me and Pixie leave when I finish his task. But what if he doesn't? Well, this is all I've got. Act like a good girl and I might go home. Behave like I normally do and we're dead. And I'm not letting Pixie die.

"Faith!" he calls again. "Please, let me apologize!"

I'm silent for a moment, but I stop moving. "Okay," I finally say. "Apologize."

He has a surprised look on his face. He quickly throws his smirk back on. "Uh, okay. I'm sorry for hurting you. If you let me look at the bruise..."

I draw my arm closer to my body, then rethink it. "Okay." I offer my arm to him and he gingerly takes my arm.

"That looks bad," he mutters. He looks guilty. But he could just be messing with me. He waves his hand over it and I see the bruise... disappear. Disappear? Disappear. Holy Hephaestus. (Only true PJO fans would understand).

"Did you... just..." I gape at the spot where the bruise once was.

"Yes." He won't look at me.

"Thanks." I put my hands together and sigh. "I'm... uh, sorry about going off on you earlier. I was mad, and-"

"You don't have to apologize," he interrupts. "It was me."

You know, I kind of doubt he's ever apologized before.


	9. Author's Note

_**Hey, guys.**_

_**Violet here.**_

_**So I've kind of gotten... let's say bored with this story.**_

_**No, not bored. I just don't know what to do with it.**_

_**This will be the last time I am posting on this story.**_

_**But I will be giving the story away to whoever wants it. If you have any ideas you'd like to use for it, PM me and I'll send it all to you.**_

_**Also, the idea I've had for a while for the end.**_

_**I'd love to help whoever takes it on, but I just don't really want to do it myself.**_

_**Thanks!**_

_**I'll post on this whoever is taking it over.**_

_**So I lied. I will be posting again. Sorry, guys. **_

_**:(**_


	10. ANOTHER Author's Note

**_Okay, guys._**

**_I lied._**

**_No one wanted the story._**

**_So I'm going to keep it going._**

**_But it will end soon._**

**_So I will be posting more on this._**

**_I can't just leave it unfinished. _**

**_Just don't freak out, because it won't be that long._**

**_-VioletReese_**


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